


Strawberry and Banana

by Faraona



Category: Golden Girls
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Brooklyn, F/F, Female Homosexuality, Female-Centric, Femslash February, First Meetings, Fluffy, Historical References, Ice Cream Parlors, Malt Shop Au, New York City, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Canon, Rare Pairings, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faraona/pseuds/Faraona
Summary: Brooklyn, 1947. Dorothy is your average high school wallflower, and her job at a local malt shop sucks - that is, until on Valentine's day, a dazzling southern girl stumbles in.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LiveLiterature](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLiterature/gifts).



> Dorothy mentions in S4E20 she used to work at a malt shop back in high school, and this idea has been on my mind for months, now just in time for Valentine's, inspiration struck and here it is, a little malt-shop AU (why's that not a thing?) I decided to reflect Blanche's accent a little more in writing.  
> I have no idea about malt shops or what would they would be like back then, and research didn't help a lot, so if anything seems off, please tell me and I'll edit it. Also sorry for the silly title, it's not exactly my strong point.  
> Enjoy, and happy Valentine's, especially to all the singles like me :P

“That’ll be 50 cents,“ Dorothy said, extending her hand over the marble counter to take the coins the smiling young boy, not much older than herself, offered to her. With the other hand, she pushed the tall glass full of mixed banana-strawberry milk, sprinkled with heart-shaped chocolate nibs, adorned by two bright red straws, over to him.

“Thank you for your visit to Snookie’s malt shop. Have a good day,” she replayed the formula she repeated countless times, day in, day out. She watched the boy cross the room and join a pretty brunette who was waiting for him at a table, giggling. Another couple. It shouldn’t surprise her, really – it was the 14th of February, and there was love in the air. Even here at the shopthey’d put up a few big red paper hearts to set the mood. Now that the war was over and the boys were back, it was becoming a more joyful holiday each year. There were advertisements all over, for roses and chocolates, and not to forget the famous cards. Every girl was dying to see if she got any – but as usual, Dorothy had found both her locker, and her desk empty that morning. And honestly, who would want to date her? She was the tallest girl at her school, skinny and clumsy, her face still recovering from puberty and her personality, in the words of her mother, just plain dull. What kind of 17-year-old girl wrote poetry, played chess and played the accordion? Not a popular one, apparently.

And when she wasn’t busy doing any of those weird things, or studying, here she was at the local malt shop, earning her own money. It was an easy job, once you got used to the tacky colors, the bright fluorescent light and the loud music from the jukebox, but she couldn’t help but feel silly when she caught a glance of herself in the big mirror, in the awful maid outfit they made her wear. Luckily, most of the time she was too busy making shakes, selling ice-cream and  sandwiches or cleaning up people’s mess to worry about her appearance. Now, dusk was approaching, and most teenagers had already stopped by for their treat. They were they biggest and most loyal clients, and sadly also the most noisy ones. By this time, the puffy red seats were filled with mostly adults, predominantly in pairs of two, with only a few youngsters remaining, tampering with the juke box.

The sound of the little bell over the door startled Dorothy out of her musings back into reality. A new client. She looked over and saw a girl about her age, looking rushed and a little disheveled. She was wearing a fancy turquoise dress that looked more like something from _Gone with the Wind_ than your average Brooklyn streetwear, but that beautifully wrapped itself around a tiny waist and stopped just below the knees.

“Hello, welcome to Snookie’s,” Dorothy said as the girl stepped closer, looking around so quickly it made her long curly hair swirl, then sitting down at one of the bar stools. “What can I get you?”

“Oh, Ah don’t know,” the girl sighed, with a heavy southern accent. “Somethin’ sweet and heavy.” She took a look at the menu behind Dorothy, but just sighed again. “What’cha suggest?”

“Well, we have some really delicious ice cream sundaes – personally, chocolate is my favorite, but the banana split is also very popular. Our special offer today is a banana-strawberry shake – normally it’s for two but I can make you a single one if you like.“ The sudden change of expression on the girl’s pretty face made Dorothy realize what a stupid thing she’d said – again. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she tried to correct her mistake. “Or a regular one, if you’re still expecting someone. Or just for you, it doesn’t really matter, actually, I didn’t mean to imply-“

The girl waved it off. “Ah’ll have a chocolate fudge and cherry sundae. With lots of topping.”

Dorothy nodded. “Coming right up.”

She was glad she could escape the girl’s glance for a while, as she got the glass cup and went to scoop up the ice cream from the front end of the counter. Those blue eyes seemed to pierce right through her, and she tried to concentrate. Two dippers of chocolate, one of cherry. Then she returned to finish the sundae with fudge and whipped cream topping, which she added so generously it almost spilled over the rim. Carefully, she topped it off with syrup, chocolate flakes and a few fresh cherries.

As she returned, her mysterious client remained serious. Dorothy placed the cup proudly on the counter.

“That’ll be 45 cents please,” she said, trying to look at the girl professionally, not intrigued.

“Almost half a dollar for a sundae!”, she exclaimed, as she reached for her purse. “New York ain’t a cheap town, that’s for sure.”

Dorothy took the note she was given and as she returned the change, their hands touched for the fraction of a second. She was afraid she’d gasped, but the girl showed no reaction. She just took her spoon and started eating away, not even moving to one of the square silver tables.

Before Dorothy could quite decide whether to try and talk or to leave her alone, a few new people came in and demanded her attention. When she was done serving them freshly mixed malt shakes, the girl was still sitting there. She was looking rather sulky, and a little lost with her fine clothes in the middle of this bright red-white-black pain in the eye. Outside, it was getting dark, and Dorothy couldn’t help but wonder if she was alright. So she took a deep breath and decided to try.

“You’re not from here, are you?” she asked softly, trying not to be intrusive.

The girl looked up from her ice cream, hesitated, then took another spoonful.

“Your chocolate is really not bad.”

It was something. Dorothy smiled. “Yeah, it is. We use only the best cream and dark chocolate – and the key is to add the chunks last.”

“Don’t go around tellin’ your secrets to everyone, you might go outta business.”

“I’m just the help, I’m going to be out of here in a few months anyway,” Dorothy replied. “Soon as I finish high school.”

The bell rang and a young couple entered, ordering the Valentine’s special. Dorothy felt the girl observe her as she worked, and had to force herself not to look over. – she had to remain focused. She scooped, mixed, poured, and sprinkled with routine, distracting her mind with the manual work. The boys at the jukebox were pushing the button for Near You by Francis Craig for the hundredth time that day.

“It’s no wonder he’s number one, at the rate they’re goin’,” the girl joked.

Dorothy let out a little laugh, and so did the girl, her tiny nose crinkling and her broad lips curving upwards.

“Actually,” the girl said after a moment, fidgeting with a cherry, “Ah’m from Atlanta.”

“That’s a long way. Did you move here?”

She shrugged, then shook her head. “Nah, Ah ran away.”

“All alone?”  Dorothy was leaning over the counter, resting on her elbows.

“With a man. Ah met him at the drug store, he was wonderful, such a gentleman – or so Ah thought. Promised to marry me and everythin’.”

Dorothy could hardly believe her ears. “What happened?”

“We had a fight. Ah didn’t wanna – oh, what’s it matter, point is, he’s gone. And instead of getting’ married on the most romantic day of the year, well, Ah’m just sittin’ here eatin’ my feelin’s.”

 “My God. What are you going to do?”

The girl shrugged. “Finish my sundae.”

Dorothy watched as she sucked the cream off a cherry before eating the little fruit, and felt suddenly quite hot. This was not supposed to happen, not again, not here… she knew it was wrong. Sometimes she wished she’d been born a boy, then everything would be fine. But like this… would this ever stop? Why couldn’t she be normal?

She saw some people leave, and had an excuse to get away from the source of her uneasiness. Cleaning up tables, bringing dirty dishes into the tiny room hardly even deserving of the term ‘kitchen’, then preparing more shakes for the late crowd. She was so busy she didn’t recognize the teenage boy who’d come in until he stood right before her. It was Stanley what’s-his-name, the annoying guy who always wanted to copy her math homework. Sometimes he even bothered her at work. But today it seemed he’d found a new object of interest, as he directed himself toward the Southern Belle.

“Hey there,” he said, as he tried to move over elegantly, and failed. The girl looked at him without much interest, but he smiled. “Do you have a map?”

“What?”

“Because I just got lost in your eyes.”

Dorothy couldn’t help but roll hers as she heard that line he’d try on every girl who didn’t take off at the sight of him. The Belle reacted equally appalled.

“Well then stay lost,” she replied coldly, turning her attention back to her sundae.

“Do you actually want anything, Stanley, or did you come in just to prey on girls?”

“Dorothy, hey, why so serious?” As she didn’t reply, he ordered a root beer float. “No plans for tonight?” he asked, as she pushed the drink over the counter.

“Give me the 15 cents and get lost.”

“No need to be so cranky, there’ll be another Valentine’s next year, maybe you’ll have better luck.“

“I don’t know if it’s ever crossed your tiny mind, but girls are people without being persecuted by boys, too.”

“Well, that’s good for you then, cause what boy would woo you…”

“Yeah, maybe that’s good because I don’t even want one.” Realizing what she’d said, she quickly added, “If you’re anything to go by.”

“Just don’t get lost in a _Well of Loneliness_ –“

Dorothy shot him a glance deadly enough to make him shut up.

“What a creep,” the girl said, as he’d left to join his gang over in the corner.

“Yeah… and still he keeps bothering me.”

“Maybe he secretly likes you?” the girl offered, slowly warming up to her.

Dorothy shook her head, taking up some freshly washed glasses to dry and polish while no new clients came in. “I don’t care. I’m not interested.” 

“Ah like your attitude,” said the Belle. “Dorothy, is it?” Dorothy nodded, her hands moving faster. “Ah’m Blanche.”

“Very nice to meet you, Blanche. That’s a beautiful name. French?”

“Yes.”

“So… Do you know anyone here in New York? If I were you, alone in a huge city, I’d be terrified.”

“Ah don’t. Usually someone from my family will come pick me up sooner or later.”

“Usually? You do this often?”

“Ah’ve run away a few times, yeah, or at least Ah tried. Ah never got as far as New York.”

Dorothy picked up the empty sundae cup and contemplated the beautiful girl that was so obviously the complete opposite of everything she herself was. Running away with a man to get married? Holy mackerel. She felt compassionate and protective, so she decided to get her a soda.

“Here, this one’s on me,” she said as she handed her the glass of sparkling Pink Lemonade.

Surprised, Blanche looked up to her. “Oh, that’s really not necessary, that’s too kind of you,” she said, accepting the drink.

Dorothy attended a few new customers, handing out the first sandwiches as the dinner crowd started to show. Usually, she looked forward to this time, as it was the  beginning of the end of her work shift, but today, she felt anxious thinking about later. What would become of the poor girl? When she finally had a moment to breathe, she returned to her side.

“You know, in case no knight in shining armor appears in the next hour and a half … maybe you want to come home with me? I mean, to call someone, maybe? Not that I wouldn’t let you stay, I would, of course, I can’t promise anything, we’d have to talk to my parents, and I don’t know what they’ll say…”

Blanche seemed more relieved than she wanted to admit. “You would let me?”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do to save your Valentine’s.” After a second, she frantically tried to rectify, “Not like it’s an invitation of that kind, romantic, I mean, uh, obviously that wouldn’t – I mean – totally inappropriate, I wouldn’t, oh God.”

Blanche’s smile lit up her whole face, and soothed Dorothy’s heart. “You’re adorable when you get all awkward,” she said softly, so it wouldn’t be overheard by anyone.

Dorothy knew she was blushing.  This girl was not afraid of anything, talking to her like that, not to mention in a public place. Did she even know what she was doing? _Was_ she even doing anything?

New customers entered the shop and saved Dorothy from the tough decision what to say. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d be wrong, in fact when it came to things like flirting, she got it wrong more often than right. She handed out more sandwiches and malt shakes to the dinner crowd that was starting to settle in. Also flooding in came more couples, young adults who ordered the Valentine’s special and gleefully shared the treat, exchanging sometimes shy, sometimes longing looks over the little distance that remained between them.

Dorothy had never been too crazy about these things, what was the big deal about St. Valentine anyway? Why place all your self-worth in a relationship, or in the attention of another person? She doubted she’d feel so deficient about not arousing any boy’s interest if it weren’t hammered into her each and every day, that that was what life should be all about: Find a boy, get married, have babies, be a good wife… And why did it have to be boys, anyway? Girls were so much more interesting, she thought, observing Blanche from the corner of her eye. Oh, how she wished there were a world where girls were allowed to love girls, and she could just _be_ herself.

She was so preoccupied with serving and thinking that she hardly noticed how time flew by. When she saw her coworker John approach, Dorothy wondered why he came in so early, but as she glanced at the clock, she saw it was almost seven. She dried her hands on her apron and joined Blanche, who was still sitting in the same spot, playing with the red paper straw in the empty soda glass.

“Hey. Uhm, my shift’s almost over now.”

Blanche smiled at her. “Great.”

Dorothy smiled back. “I’m just gonna make the change with my colleague, and then get changed, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay. Ah’ll be waitin’ right here.”

 “Perfect.” Dorothy didn’t know what else to say, so she awkwardly turned around and headed for the back office. When she got back out again a few minutes later, finally out of uniform and in her own, comfortable clothes, a small bag thrown over her shoulder and a heavily beating heart in her chest, she found Blanche in the same spot, watching her.

“So…” Dorothy said, trying to seem confident. “Shall we?”

“Uhm, actually… Ah was thinkin’, if you have a little more time – do you? Or are your folks waitin’ for you?”

They were, probably, Ma would be making dinner and Dorothy was always expected to be punctual; New York not being the safest place for a girl out alone after dark. But then again…

“What did you have in mind?” she asked, curious and failing not to get her hopes up when she saw Blanche’s coy smile. Instead of answering, the belle waved for John.

“Get me one of those Valentine’s specials,” she said, and after a second, added, “For two.”

She glanced back at Dorothy, who could hardly believe her ears.

“How could Ah leave without tryin’ it,” Blanche remarked, with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes. “Come, let’s sit down over there.”

Dorothy, still a little taken aback, followed the girl who held her by the arm and led her to one of the comfy corner tables. They sat close beside each other, and as Blanche leaned in, taking up one of the straws, she hardly dared follow her lead, but she did, so close to the mysterious, wonderful girl that she could smell her perfume, and make out a tiny spot in her left iris. Never in her life had she felt this combination of fear and excitement, and never had a simple strawberry-banana milk shake tasted so splendid as that St. Valentine’s Day.

**Author's Note:**

> 'Near You' was actually the #1 only later in 47, but I liked it, so I took some poetic licence.  
> 'The Well of Loneliness' is a book about a lesbian couple from 1928, that was banned, but later sold well; I have no idea if teenagers at that time would know about it, but let's just assume they did.  
> This is my first attempt at anything like an AU, and it's not beta-read (I only threw it together in the last two nights) but I'm reaaaaally excited to hear what you think, so pretty please give feedback!


End file.
